Attack on Veterans
by ThisAccKillsFascists
Summary: Attack on Titan AU in which Erwin Smith leads a mafia. As age gets the best of him and the members, more mafias begin to form until all havoc has broken loose.
1. Chapter 1

Their senses were being played with. The aged metal of their pistols started to freeze their hands; gloves would've been nice on a night like this. Someone was yelling something, yet no one really could hear; bullet after bullet and nothing was silent. The red blurred everything; the evening was clear and colorful, yet the night was dark and bloody. Gunpowder transformed the once sweet smelling air; a fire could break out and no nose would be able to tell the difference. Fear was on everyone's tongues; the suspense was inhabiting their lungs like a virus. Not a single member minded this though, for they were all used to it. Nights like these were what kept them living.

"The horses are galloping!" A man with some rather odd looking eyebrows was calmly holstering his gun as he spoke with panic. The horses, the police, were finally paying them a visit. Erwin Smith's mafia needed to move out before the police moved them to cells.

Always one to push the orders, Rivaille fired one last shot. His family was already hopping into the SUV they bought together years ago, yet he felt the need to waste a bullet on checking to make sure one of his enemies was truly and utterly dead. "We'll leave you for the horses, Shorty!" The short man was always the last to leave the crime scenes. Hanji always threatened the same thing, yet their driver never once left him behind. The police always found themselves surrounded by corpses and no one to get their hands on. Over many years, Shinigasha's feared mafia had grown to be quite a clever mouse running away from a rather slow cat.

That was the start of every week for them. Somehow, they found some group of people to murder on each Monday that passed them by. There was always someone they thought was wasting too much air. They had their schedule. They had their routine. How no one ever protected themselves still confused Erwin and his mafia.

It was past midnight by the time they pulled into their headquarters. Calling the place an HQ had started off ironic, for it was only a suburban home. The five members lived like a family, after all, they were each others' siblings. They had been for eleven years. A family that kills together, stays together.

"Did the blood seem messier than normal to you guys?"

"Next time I'll make sure to shoot when someone is close enough to reach you with their splatter!"

"I forgot to say something when I smelt the horses, sorry about that."

"Mike, you have to start remembering to speak up on these operations."

"That's enough!"

The same words were said in the same order. They had their routine that was safe to stick to. Not all their conversations were repeats of each other, yet repetition was no stranger to their mafia. There was only so much you could do with such a business. Living without change was bound to grow dull. Sooner or later, they'd be shooting each other just for entertainment. What a tragic ending that would be.

"Any names for our next victims? Time to plan something more extravagant than 'meet them in an ally and shoot them dead' would be nice. Anyone agree?" the short-haired girl's words came out with pauses. A midnight snack of a banana was a must for Nanaba. If one didn't know any better, it'd be quite easy to believe that she was cheating on Mike with her favorite fruit.

"I wouldn't mind that," The other female turned to the head of their table, "I'm always on a tight research schedule when I'm trying to dig up information on our prey. Having the entire week and not just a few days would be a major relief, Erwin."

They were turning into selfish adolescents, thought the leader, they had just killed only to desire to kill again. Things weren't exactly the same as always, we're they? Erwin had gotten used to Nanaba holding a separate conversation with Mike and Hanji scribbling down research questions inspired by the corpses of the night. To hear both of them eagerly pouncing on the idea beginning a new mission right away was quite the surprise.

Rivaille gave out his trademarked "tch," no one had answered their questions yet. He had a response to give, but he also had coffee to drink. Decisions, decisions. "There is reasoning to waiting so long. Murder is serious stuff; picking victims on Thursdays prevents us from recklessly massacring whoever we see. There has to be order to our madness." Laughter erupted from the bane of his existence at the end of his last sentence, the maddest one of all. She only laughed at comments that weren't funny.

"Madness, by definition, can not have order. Madness is simply a word used as a euphemism. It makes mental diseases sound a lot nicer, no?" More giggles. It wouldn't be a surprise to anyone if she was diagnosed with a maddening disease. Things surely weren't safe when Hanji was around. "If we were to orderly be insane, we'd be planning out of the ordinary actions and thoughts. Having the plans would take away the insanity. There cannot be order to our madness. As fun as it would be, we cannot do the impossible." Was the woman being ironic or ignorant? Practically every action unique to her was of the impossible. Wanting the most information possible, Hanji didn't sleep Thursdays through Mondays. Her searches into the lives of her prey took up too much of her time. Meals were skipped and sleep only came after a mission was completed. How she was alive and healthy was the eighth wonder of the world. She did the impossible every week.

"Oh, will you just keep your mouth shut, Four Eyes? I wasn't asking for one of your lectures," he couldn't use a common phrase without being corrected, if he didn't care about his coffee so much, the liquid would have already been thrown at Hanji. Out of all the years that he had known her, Levi was yet to discover a way to shut his companion up. Her annoying mouth continued to spew words nonstop. Nanaba's idea was starting to appeal to him more. If Hanji had more time to research, she'd use it all to deepen her knowledge, the women would never leave her desk. She might never bother Levi again. The lectures had a possible upcoming end. He'd stop arguing.

The table shook. A chair fell to the floor, too much force had acted upon it when it was pushed backwards. Mr. Smith had something to say: "The schedule we've been following works perfectly. There's always improvement to be made, though. I've heard that Trost has a handful of troublesome citizens currently. To the best of my knowledge, they're wannabe thugs wrecking havoc; easy targets. Stress shouldn't be a problem. Don't come to me saying your overworked because if you map out your duties properly I'll be shocked if you don't have rest time. We can experiment and see how well this works." Leading a democratic mafia, Erwin did as he always did when a group decision was to be made. The classic 'raise your hand of your in favor' group vote was taken.

A hand from Levi, who wanted a week with Hanji researching and not bugging him.

A hand from Hanji, who wanted a week full of research.

A hand from Mike, who wanted to support an idea originally pitched by his girlfriend.

A hand from Nanaba, who wanted time for planning a more in depth operation.

Erwin made the vote unanimous. He wasn't jumping on the bandwagon, he was hoping for a change in his routine.

Well, the decision had been made. They'd all get to work once they woke up on Tuesday morning. For that, they needed to hit the hay. Sleep welcomed the guiltless murderers. There was no rest for the wicked, yet the five souls were all just screwed up in the head, they had good intentions. They were the ones who brought rest to the wicked in the form of bullets.

* * *

What a life to live. Despite being frowned upon so greatly, such enjoyment was found in the hearts of the Smith Mafia. The guns, the blood, the fear, the murder, or just maybe the justice all personally touched a member. While some adults found comfort in card games and book clubs, this particular rowdy group of oldies found their peace with this hobby of killing those who also messed with the law.

Everyone has their flaws. Don't judge.

A "bang, bang, pow, pow," from the bespectacled female and her gun broke the silence. More often than not, she was the first to release bullets into the air. She just loved the thrill. That woman was always seeking the fun way to go about matters. If that just so happened to be getting the first kill of a mission, then so be it. If she just so happened to fire her gun before approaching the targets, Levi was quick to raise to tip-toes and slap her dirty cheek. Complaints from the man and laughs from the girl erupted every single time. Eleven years and the same actions hadn't grew tiresome yet.

Relying on Mike's extraordinary nose, the group migrated towards the feral teenagers of Trost. In a matter of hours, their location would not be a place for the living to walk. With happy trigger fingers and trigger happy shooters, their victims were guaranteed to enter a new life. Levi Rivaille was the Captain of the "Check If Their Cruddy Corpses Are Dead Dead," club, which wasn't a shameful title when embraced. His extra shots sometimes did help quite a lot. No one escaped him alive.

Hanji's bullet hit the right side of a freckled teenager, the second his friend started running to his side, the rest of their gang flew out of hiding. Nobody ever said teenagers were intelligent, did they? Aiming his pistol towards the horse-faced helper, Levi was ready to create corpses out of the wounded and his friend. Easy targets taken care of first left more time for "dead-dead checking."

"Wait." A baritone voice enveloped Levi's ears, leaning his head down, Erwin began to whisper orders of the night to his subordinate, "Those two seem interesting. Don't dim their eyes yet..." and so he did not. Freckles and Horseface were watched, yet not shot. Something about them seemed to stick out. They weren't like the other ferals, were they wealthier, more ambitious? There was something.

The other teenagers did not have their luck. A line of bullets had rapidly fired only to pierce the torso of one who might have been named Thomas. Words were hard to make out, yet it wasn't hard to tell that Nanaba had gotten the first kill of the night. Her boyfriend proudly smelt the shots and death. How he did so still baffled everyone.

Quite an unfair battle, there were prepared professionals and shocked amateurs. As sad as it was to watch the underdogs lose, it was nature. Eat or be eaten; they were preyed upon and just didn't have the training to fight back more than a couple punches. (The punches were really beneficial, though. Once they got close enough to their original attacker, the gun was only that much closer to them. It's been established before, and it will be established again: teenagers aren't intelligent.)

The night was Erwin's night. It was his mafia killing the victims he had picked. He held the pistol of the highest caliber, and he shot whoever he wanted. To cross Erwin, was to cross into the afterlife. Life was a game to him, and he was the master strategist, he called the shots, moved the pieces, he was in charge; the world was his board game.

His backup pistol whipped out of its holster and into his hand. Love was a special thing. For half of a couple to say goodbye before their significant was tragic. Never a fan of Shakespeare in his high school "glory days," Erwin took it amongst himself to prevent the extended suffering of one lover. A girl with a ponytail who never left the side of her boyfriend and him both took bullets to their foreheads. Erwin's trigger finger was too fast for them. Hopefully, the couple could love each other in a better place.

However, the other possible relationship among the ferals was still alive by the end of the bloodshed. Not a single member of the mafia dared to shoot at the two boys, and neither of the two had acted in retribution. There really was something special about Horseface and Freckles. The two had remained in a corner the entire time, the wounded one was calm enough for the both of them and had somehow held on to sensible thoughts, even with a bullet in his right side.

"Jean, I'm telling you, go get the police. I'll be fine here."

"What the crap are you saying? We have murderers right behind us. I'm not leaving your side."

"Well, wouldn't it be nice if we got the killers behind bars? Two birds with one stone, get the cops and I can receive some medical attention and they can be disciplined."

"Marco,-"

The tell-tale sounds of a loaded magazine popping into the butt of a pistol cut this Jean kid short, "The police won't help corpses, nor will they arrest those whom they cannot catch. Allow me to inform you that I have perfect aim. One more wrong word from either of you two, and you'll be joining the rest of your friends." as Erwin aimed at the sitting teenagers, Levi and Hanji stalked around the bodies laying still, their actions should be obvious by this point. "I'll fulfill any death wishes either of you guys have, but if you have wishes involving life, it'd best be that you run like the dickens."

Their night ended soon after that. In all the years the five adults had been killing, they had never once let a single soul go. The first change in quite some time had occurred for them that night. Their attack on Trost had ended, yet a new era was beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

He was running again. His feet were pounding against concrete pavement as air went through his nose and out his mouth. Who was on his feet, he had no clue. He was a petty criminal on the run, and no one could stop him. Eren Jaeger had let his rage influence yet another decision of his.

Yeah, Mikasa, was definitely going to be pleased with him. Ever since the tragic death of their mother, she had stepped in loco parentis. Just what he needed, a mother who was his age and a million times stronger than him.

Eren loved his life. It was a wonder he always tested the law. With everything going right for him, one would think that he could be a peaceful teenager and simply go along with life. The thing with that, was that the boy was never peaceful. He was pure and utter rage at its finest, and everything went the opposite of right for him.

Just like his feet, which turned left, carrying him into the wrong alleyway. The person whom he was hoping to see was no where to be seen, he had taken the wrong turn. With that, he lost the perfect getaway that his blond friend had planned out for him. Strategy was not Eren's strongest suit, having never learnt from his failures, the teenager always relied on his friend under the name of Armin for such things. They made a good-no, great-team. Troubles would arise, yet they could tackle them.

* * *

Silence held the house. Nanaba and Mike were somewhere, a date of sorts they said, while Hanji and Erwin were researching together, picking targets required lots of discussion. That colloquy was saved for the brightest of minds; Levi came in with attack plans, and even then, his talents were still saved. He was good with murder and thievery. Out of all the lessons the street taught his as a kid, that was something that would always stick as his sharpest skill.

With no one around, the short man found his feet taking him to the coffee shop down the street, The Coffee of Freedom, yes, the corniest name imaginable. He found one of the few teas in their menu quite amazing, whoever had thought of the brew was a genius, at least in his eyes, for a cup and chair outside steadied him. Levi, a calm man, lived in a hectic world, a calming activity was welcomed when he had the time for it.

After he thanked the only barista whom he didn't have to look up to, 'Petra' her name tag read, he took his place a table topped with an umbrella. Nothing out of the ordinary, the way he liked it.

Well.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. The aforementioned teenage 'brat' came running into the man's eyes. Another failed getaway, maybe? Whatever it was, it caused his eyes to contradict Levi's, Frustration, Rage, and Desperation wrote their names in his pupils. He was running again. Nothing could stop him: no civilian, no horse, no one.

"Tch." No one except for Levi. Maybe it was how he blocked Eren's way, maybe it was the glare he pierced him with, or maybe it was just his overall presence, but whatever it was, the taller teenager was on his knees, Levi had his attention, "Oi, brat, come with me," he also had his ear. Bringing him up, only to bring him back down to his level, the stronger one of the two dragged the younger one away from The Coffee of Freedom, and towards the magnanimous headquarters.

The petty criminal wanted to protest and fight against the grasp captivating him, yet couldn't bring himself to it. After all, why should he? Armin was good at more than just planning failed getaway attempts, the kid was also good at researching important people. Members of the Smith Mafia had taken great care to make sure that the public eye wouldn't recognize them; they were good at what they did. Armin, too, was good at what he did, if Eren had paid attention correctly to what his blond friend had uncovered about the unlawful ones, he knew where he was going. Eren Jaeger's ear was in the hand of the infamous Levi Ackerman. Eren was taking a trip to wherever the greatest criminals to walk the streets of Shinigasha met. Boy, was he excited.

Was this some sort of joke? What kind of feared mafia met in a two-story, brick home? Did they think they were on some cheesy sitcom, killing at night and being a family during the day? Eren was not laughing.

He was, however, pushed into the home office after Levi had kicked the doors open. Silence sat suspended between the four. Hanji looked to Levi as Erwin looked to Eren. This was something new. The two didn't know whether it was more shocking to see a new face in their home, or to see that new face brought in by the most introverted of the group.

Stringing words into sentences, Erwin was the first to verbalize his confusion, "Levi, is there a reason you brought this boy to us?"

"Is it you or Mike or who always mumbles the stupid 'eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth,' shit?" Following his words, Levi pushed Eren so that he was in the middle of everyone, on the floor, "We shot all those teenagers at Trost. Brat for a brat, I thought you would want this kid."

Oh. Well. That was something that could be interpreted. Being a thinker, Hanji's mind began to race. Levi did make sense, they, as a group, probably needed to do something to make up for their recent murders. The thing was, Levi was saying this, something that would make more sense to come from Nanaba, there was more reasoning to what he was letting on. Could it be that-

"I would have preferred if you-"

"I found him on the street. I couldn't have informed you beforehand."

"Are you trying to tell me we should accept a teenage law-breaker into our professional mafia?" Erwin cleared his throat, hoping that Levi had more support for his actions. Hanji, on the other hand, had already withdrawn herself from the conversation. While Erwin wanted support, she wanted motives.

"You're to talk, Eyebrows," the short fellow scoffed, "That's almost what you did to me when we were younger."

He felt guilty, that was it. Hanji had come to her conclusion. Why else would Levi bring in a street-rat? His years as a thug must've hit him as he killed all those kids who were living as he did. It was quite possible that he was trying to right that wrong. He concealed his internal self, yet Hanji could read right through him, commonly. She had picked up how to see through his screen more than anyone else had.

Her conclusion stayed only with her internal self, yet she had been silent for long enough. Having figured Levi out, she was on her knees hoping to learn who this kid was. "Off the street, eh?" She started her rapid fire of questions, all of which, she expected answers to, "Eren? As in Eren, what is it, Jaeger? You're the hit-and-run driver and thief that's been on the local news, right? How old are you? Do you actually want to join or are you just here because you're weaker than Shorty?" More questions spewed from her mouth until Shorty took it amongst himself to push Hanji away from the kid with his foot. This was supposed to be a discussion, not an interrogation.

It also wasn't supposed to be a house party, yet that didn't keep the couple from returning from their date. As Erwin began what could be a final answer as to Levi's proposal, the mustached man was quick to assume that the kid on the floor was a possible new member.

Leaving his girlfriend at the front of the room, Mike made his way across the hallway to push Levi out of the way, and tackle the adolescent sitting on his knees in confusion, "COME ON AND,"

"Not this again, Mike. Get your filth off the boy-"

"SLAM TO THE JAM." Without anyone saying that he was to be a new member of the Smith Mafia, Eren Jaeger had already passed what stood as an initiation. Mike's tackles were definitely something, no one, not even the woman who loved him, enjoyed being the subject of them.

Soon enough, six bowls, six spoons, a gallon of milk, and the new box of Cheerios joined the mafia plus Eren at the dining table. Important decisions had to be made in a manner that did not including slamming and jamming. The main point of discussion was how much Eren would be affected by joining. They knew that it would require some adjusting, yet no one was opposed to the teenager. Hanji, who knew of him from the news broadcasts, was quick to convince everyone that he'd be easy to train for their missions. All that was left was making sure of Eren having next to zero personal connections.

"My mom died awhile ago and my dad is barely around. School? Dropped out in November. I rarely talk to anyone from then. Y'know, just when I run into them. Nope. I wasn't really involved in activities... Yeah, I've gone to court before, but it's not like I'm friends with a lawyer or anything."

No mention of Armin or Mikasa. Eren must have really wanted to be accepted to leave out his two best friends. It worked for him. Erwin made an executive decision that Eren Jaeger seemed fit to join, one wrong move and he'd face a bullet to the head, yet if he could last, he would be an official member of the Smith Mafia.

Eren was playing in the big league, now.

* * *

The week passed without any more surprises. Erwin wrote out his agenda for what needed to happen and when. Hanji stayed inside of her office, researching the criminals that Erwin felt the need to exterminate. Levi aided in the teaching of Eren how to wield a handgun properly. Mike also taught the boy some tricks of the trade, yet mainly stood next to Erwin in developing an outline of their upcoming mission. Nanaba planned out would be in charge of what. Sure, Levi didnt have as much time for tea breaks, yet otherwise, things were running smoothly; everyone was occupied, and no one was upset. Who would have guessed that peace could hold killers.

Sunday night came quickly. Research and plans were finished and shared, training was evaluated, and dinner was served. A tradition, the night leading up to a mission was always the only night of the week that the family sat down for a meal that didn't include cereal or a microwave. Not everyone had the mind of Hanji, yet they all knew the honest truth. Their line of work was dangerous, obviously. Corrupt deals were made with the local addicts, shots were fired, and the cops had platters saved for their heads. Yes, the five adults were good at what they did, yet that didn't mean that they wouldn't slip up one night. Possibilities were endless, and each and every one of them wanted their last memories to be an inaccurate, yet happy, representation of their life.

"Somebody planning on passing the mashed potatoes this way?"

"Learn what patience is, will you?"

"Who has the salad?"

"I do, but I'm done with it. I can toss it to you!"

"That joke has overstayed its welcome, Four-Eyes."

Yes. A pleasant dinner. That is most definitely what occurred. At least their night was spent in the company of light hearts. Heavy spirits would join them later, they didn't need emotional weight of any sorts in this moment. All was well.

Well.

As a narrator, I am supposed to include specific details to bring characters into the light.

There's just such a sweet moment in the story, though, I believe it's fine that I leave out Eren's anger issues occasionally getting the best of him. Honestly, that's fairly reoccurring. A peaceful note is how this chapter should end, and a peaceful note is how this chapter will end.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello, everyone. I am tremendously sorry to say this, but I highly doubt that I will update Attack on Veterans again. I had a creativity block when I started to type chapter three, yet once I got over that, I had begun losing interest in SnK.

I plan on writing (and completing) fics for a couple of different fandoms in the near future, and I would like to thank all of my readers for giving time to my incomplete story. Y'all mean a lot to me.

I hope that you understand my reasons for clicking the "completed" button without actually typing any conclusion. My apologies, once again.


End file.
